I wake up with a dry mouth. I must have been breathing through my mouth?
What was I dreaming? No, thinking about my dry mouth, the dream is gone. It woke me up though.
6am. I was up. It was dark in the loungeroom still at 6am. I didn’t want to turn on the light because the lights are too bright. Let’s hope no one gets up and gets startled by not seeing me sitting here initially.
Metabolism and diet are linked to root of bipolar depression, say researchers. Illness could be treated as a physical, rather than mood, disorder, according to scientists in Edinburgh.
Not all men, but a lot of them: will Gisele Pelicot rape trial finally change France’s attitude to sexual abuse?
6.30am. I thought I started watching the shorter Friday addition of Coldwarmotors, but I actually stared watching the longer Sunday version.
7.40am. Bruno wanders into the lounge room.
7.45am. Sam and Otto wander into the lounge room. Otto briefly chases Ollie. Sam tells him off.
8am. I make vegemite toast and coffee.
8.30am. I watch the shorter Coldwarmotors from Thursday which I hadn’t watch.
9am. I go for a bike ride. I am expected to go. Girl trainer will be pleased. Of course, I should go for reasons beyond such expectation.
9:07am. I’ll leave for my bike ride. The sun comes out.
Napier Street > Edinburgh Gardens > Park Street > Royal Park > Dynon Road.
There are so many people walking their dogs in Edinburgh Gardens and along Park Street and in Royal Park.
9.40am. I’m at Dynon Road. The sun is shining as I stop for a moment. I realise they have built a whole new off/on ramp right across where I used to stop at Dynon Road.
I turn for home. Of course, I play a game of Would I Suck You Off with all the joggers jogging towards me. It starts off as definite no’s. No, No. No. No. But then suddenly, it is all yeses.
There are lots of people with golf carts around Royal Park Train Station, getting in the way, taking up the whole pathway.
10:18am. I’m home again. Otto is excited to see me. He leaps about in his unrestrained puppy way. It’s really lovely. Another living creature showing unrestrained happiness.
The sun is shining.
I have a shower.
I sit on the couch with Otto.
12:03pm. What are you doing come on? Let’s go what are you doing down there… my dictation catches me again, even before I start talking.
We take the dogs for a walk to The Hive.
It’s overcast with rain, clouds and kind of windy and cool.
We meet up with a Boston terrier as we walk down Victoria Parade, with which, of course, Otto wants to play. Bruno takes little notice after a cursory nose sniff. The Boston’s owner says the Boston is a puppy too.
12.30pm. We’re at the Vietnamese eatery. 118 Victoria Street Richmond. We sit outside on the tables on the footpath.
The sun is shining. It is hot sitting in it. I take my hoodie off.
12.38pm. The sun goes away. It is such a spring day. I might have to put my hoodie back on.
Matt calls me to say Victoria Brown is in palliative care in St Vincent’s with terminal cancer spread right through her. She doesn’t want to see anyone, but she’d like those she was closest to, to know.
I breath out long and slow after the phone call. That is very sad. I take a moment to think about her. Life will seem just that little bit smaller without her in it.
Sam looks around, just as the nutter drops his groceries onto the ground, pulls the bedspread over his shoulders like a cape and walks up to the front wall of the Hive and starts yelling at it as if it is a person.
I see a Mercedes with a BMW numberplate. It makes me chuckle.
There is a big, rough looking guy in a brown hoodie – is it brown, or is it just dirty? I’m not sure – sitting on the tram stop seats. Another guy comes along, who looks like a Chinese spiritual guy with a crinkly beard that looks like it has been ironed flat. He sits next to the big rough guy. Moments later, the Chinese guru pulls something from his pocket and hands it to the big, rough guy, who fiddles about with it surreptitiously before sliding it away into his pocket. The Chinese guy gets up and quietly walks away. The big, rough guy gets up not long after and also walks away.
12.51pm. I’m sleepy sitting in the sun. I’ve been really sleepy lately, I wonder what that is about?
1.43pm. Bruno, Otto and I are in the entrance to The Hive.
Some old bitch is standing in the entrance to The Hive with me and Bruno and Otto with her phone on loud loudspeaker yapping away to some fucker. I so want to tell her to shut the fuck up, well, to take her phone off loud speaker.
1:46 pm. Sam reappears and we crossed Nicholson Street and sit outside Minh Phat. Would you stop getting twisted up in your fucking lead what is wrong with you... my dictation catches me out again.
1.51pm. Sam reappears
2.15pm. We’re home.
I call Mark and tell him about Victoria Brown. Mark is not well himself at the moment, but we have a laugh.
I do the Facebook thing collecting historic photos. I get lost in that for a while, longer than I intended.
I watch tasty Classics and his Ford Granada.
5.30pm. We eat yogurt and blueberries for an arvo snack. The day is quickly drawing to a close. Monday morning is rushing up quick.
We ate curry for dinner. It was very nice. I don’t eat the rice, Sam isn’t too pleased about that. Shrug.
We watched The Amazing Race. The Matilda’s are awful to watch. Humourless and serious. How many times have they said they are elite athletes? Over and over. Yes, we get it, you are elite athletes. How many times have they said they hate losing? Hey girls, nobody likes losing? They are just awful to watch, such blokes.
We watched 60 Minutes and flight SQ321. It is a very sad story. The lawyers are trying their hardest to make Singapore airlines responsible, you know, like lawyers do.
Sam wants to re-start the modem, and 60 minutes is dragging out the plane turbulence story until we are starting to look to our laptops and ipads for relief, so we turn the TV off.
Then we do screens.
10.15pm. We go to bed.
I looked at images of Robert Fuller.
10.38pm. Lights out.
That is Sunday done. That is the weekend done.
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